


Roll Call

by ClutteredHeadspace



Category: Bleach
Genre: Headcanon, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClutteredHeadspace/pseuds/ClutteredHeadspace
Summary: Old traditions are sometimes a reminder of where the Gotei 13 came from. After all, Captain might be their title but the position is something older.





	Roll Call

The sun was settling towards the White Way Gate, casting warm soothing light over the evening activity that filled the Seireitei streets. Those Shinigami on night watch were emerging from their division barracks while seated officers were finishing the days reports as their counterparts coming onto duty prepared to brief their units. In another hour the warmth of the summer sky would trade in it's orange evening hues for twilight's secretive violets. The winter war may have ended recently but the dangers of Hollows and Arrancar were as prevalent as ever.  
  
In the fifth division administrative building an uneasy energy flavoured the air. Of all the Thirteen Courtguard Squads the Fifth had taken their former Captains betrayal the hardest. He had not only betrayed them but had been the ring-leader of more than a century of underhanded treason and backstabbing. Their confidence was shaken, as was the other squads trust in them. Despite the war's ending and the traitors dead or locked away, the members of the fifth were aware of their uneasy position among the other courtguard squads. The thirteen squads were defined by their Captains and despite having fooled all of soul society, it was his betrayal of them that the members of squad five found the hardest to forgive. Now at last after seventeen months of war and turbulence, the vacant Captains position had been filled and change was inevitable, the squad however had never felt more uncertain about their future.    
  
Their new Captain was a man who'd been wounded even deeper by the traitorous man than they had been, after all the he had been his second in command. More then a century ago he'd been stabbed in the back by his own lieutenant, turned into a monstrous hybrid of Hollow and Shinigami and cast out of the soul society. His name had been stuck from the records and so the squad only had the recollections of the few left who'd once served under him to go by. The rumors flew and spread like wildfire but nothing other then his name, Shinji Hirako, could be confirmed. As the shadows lengthened the men slowly gathered on the divisions training quad. They were unusually subdued as they cast uneasy looks up at the open window of the Captains office on the third floor of the administration building.   
  
On the otherside of that open window Shinji Hirako sat behind the heavy wooden captains desk. It was from here he had once run the fifth division, and it was a seat he'd never expected to return to. Studying his long narrow hands resting on the polished ancient wood he wondered how the smooth grains could be so achingly familiar and yet so alien to his touch. The open window behind him let in the teasing late breeze to brush the back of his neck with a lovers playful tickle. That was different, he noted absently, his long blonde hair back when he had last sat in this chair had prevented him from noticing that detail. He stroked the polished wooden desktop with the side of his thumb feeling the slickness of Aizen's reiatsu still clinging to the form of the desk. Closing his eyes, he looked deeper but could find only the faintest traces of his own faded reiatsus presence in the furnitures' history. Perhaps that was what bothered him the most about reclaiming his old office, that there was only the faintest echo of his presence left even though it had belonged to him for longer then his centuries of exile. Meanwhile the presence of the backstabbing bastard who'd stolen it from him had barely begun to fade after his seventeen months absence. It still whispered 'mine' along Shinji's frazzled nerves like the man's ghost was lurking in every corner of the room. Despite his reappointment the once respected Captain's exile left him chaffing at the subtle reminders of what had been taken from him. 

 

"Well now that's a dark face." At the gravelly drawl Shinji's head snapped up to see Shunsui leaning against the door frame. A couple days worth of stubble graced his chin and infamous sakkat was pushed back to reveal deceptively sleepy eyes. The gaudy pink kimono draped over his white captains haiori appeared unaffected by the passage of time. Complementing the way the large man lounged in the doorway his lazy attitude giving a sense of him having only taken a nap since they last spoke. When you'd been around for over a thousand years perhaps his exile was hardly noticeable Shinji thought with wry amusement.

 

"I was debating burning down the administration building." the blonde responded knowing that the old captain would understand what he meant. Shunsui gave a wane smile in response.

 

"Old Man Yami would probably object to that but I can't say I'd blame you." he swayed upright and entered the office properly, sliding the door shut behind him. Shinji leaned back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head making a show of considering.

 

"He might not if I asked him to do the honors." he argued and the older captain laughed as he settled into the chair on the other side of the desk as though the effort of remaining upright to cross the office had been too much for him.

 

"So how does it feel to be back?" he asked producing a flask of sake from somewhere within his haiori and tossing it to Shinji with practiced ease. He caught it and turned the smooth leather case over in his hands while he considered the question. There was something about Shunsui's careless attitude that had always made Shinji reconsider his typically glib answers and the flask was a convenient distraction.  It looked unchanged from the last time that it had landed in his lap, the kanji in the leather were perhaps a touch smoother and darker. Breathe, his fingers read as they traced the kanji lines, he knew what Shunsui sharing flask meant. It was the other man sly way of offering silent support. The flamboyant drunk had been a captain longer then Shinji had been alive, he knew better than any of the new generation the weight of the captains haiori's. Weakness was death to a Captain, and while the dangers were less obvious these days the old culture of distrust died hard. 

 

"Weird." Shinji decided, spinning the lid off the flask and taking a sip before tossing it back to it's owner. "After living in exile coming back here is a culture shock." He kept his voice smooth and his reatsu carefully controlled. Shunsui took a swig from the flask and relaxed comfortably his large muscled frame going nearly boneless in the chair.

 

"The world of the living moves fast. Soul Society, not so much." he agreed glancing around at the office taking in furnishings that reflected Soul Societies largely edo period culture.

 

"Maybe that's what makes being back here so hard, it's not what hasn't changed so much as the subtlety of what has." Shinji murmured as Shunsui tossed the flask back over the desk. 

 

"Like his mark in this office?" he asked, astute as ever. Shinji nodded and sipped the rather excellent sake, filing away that Shunsui had the same habit as he did of not referring to Aizen and his betrayal by name.

 

"Even just noticing something like that." he elaborated, waving his hand in a vaguely encompassing gesture. "In the human world there are so few people with significant spiritual pressure that being back here feels like I'm drowning. Taking it all in and sorting through it used to be a reflexive instinct, and I find that I'm still shaking the rust off." Shunsui tilted his head back to glance at the ceiling. 

 

"You had of the best instincts for all that." Shunsui reminisced with a fond smile. "Not many of the kids these days do." He added meeting Shinji's eyes with a subtle quirk of his brow.

 

"Really?" Shinji asked curiously tossing the flask back over. Reatsu control and recognition was one of the first things that recruits at the Shinigami academy were taught but he supposed that with the overwhelming power that filled the air in the Seretei many would just ignore the ability within the perceived safety of the city. As soon as Shinji had stepped out of the senkimon his suspicious nature had immediately reached out to access his surroundings, he'd felt the subtle shift of power in the air. New players, new faces to the same old game but he hadn't ventured to far afield of the fifth to find out more yet. 

 

"Yep. Perhaps this new generation hasn't had enough of a shake up in the power structure to notice it as more then background noise." Shunsui offered and Shinji smirked at that. The Captain's and Lieutenants of the Gotei 13 made up the bulk of that background noise and having the three Visards who'd chosen to return to their former divisions stepping into that potent cocktail was going to cause quite a change. All of the Visard Captains were significantly older then their replacements had been and their hybrid natures was something that had never existed in the Seretei before.

 

"Well they'll learn the hard way then I suppose." he muttered and the drunkard just laughed with weary experience tossing the flask back across desktop.

 

"Very true." he murmured letting a comfortable silence settle between them. Shinji couldn't recall his companion ever being part of an uncomfortable silence. He sipped the flask again as he watched the bulky man with half lidded eyes. Maybe it was his reiatsu he mused, despite it's dark feel at moments there was always something sleepy about it. Like a lion with a full belly lying in the sun, he smirked and decided the imagery wasn't too far off for the man despite the gaudy pink kimono over his shoulders. He took a lazy pull then tossed the flask back to its owner. 

 

"I was wondering who I should thank for having over seen the fifth in the last few months. I understand that with the captain gone and Lieutenant Hinamori out of commission the job would have fallen onto one of the other Captains." he asked curiously. "I've found a whiff of power here and there in the office that doesn't belong to anyone in the division." That power had been copiously absent in the area around the Captains desk however. Shunsui caught the flask on reflex and smirked at the ceiling. 

 

"Hard to say about the traces of power. However Captain Hitsugaya of the Tenth stepped in, he's a child-hood friend of your Lieutenant."

 

"Hitsugaya..." Shinji considered the name for a moment. "The one that sent my lieutenant back to the fourth?" he asked and Shunsui smiled sadly remembering that moment of the war with bitter clarity. The shock replacing confidence in the tenth's captains eyes as Aizen revealed his trickery and that it was his beloved friend rather than the enemy impaled on the youths sword.

 

"The same." Shinji frowned at that as he thought back. He hadn't spoken with the youth much, the heat of battle wasn't the place for that, and while he couldn't have denied the boys power Shinji was almost positive he hadn't even hit puberty yet.   
  
"The kid is barely out of the academy, how the hell is he a Captain?" Shunsui shrugged at the question, the blondes sharp gaze rolling off his unflappable personality like water off a duck.

 

"He's powerful child prodigy, has proven to be a capable captain for the last twenty years, and he’s a genius. Being a Captain doesn't have an age requirement." the larger man dismissed far to casually and Shinji narrowed his golden eyes. 

 

"Kyoraku." he warned and the big Captain sighed shifting in his seat. Considering how to continue.

 

"How did you find the fifth when you arrived?" he asked and Shinji considered that trying to determine where the older man was heading. 

 

"Damn near flawless. Reports are all in the proper order and while there's been some slack with training, order and discipline have been surprisingly well maintained." Shunsui nodded. 

 

"And does your Lieutenant seem to be the sort who could single handedly maintain order and discipline in one of the divisions that were hardest hit by the betrayal?" Shinji considered his delicate and soft spoken Lieutenant, she was wane and damn near ghostly, Aizen had broken her far more then any other. 

 

"No." he finally admitted. "She's capable, and has a stubborner will then most but I don't see her capable of holding order in this division. There would have been suspicion and unease after his defection and it would have been pointed at her." Shunsui handed him back the flask. 

 

"I received word that there was trouble here a couple of weeks after they fled. Ukitake and I were surprised it had taken that long to be honest. Nanao-chan and I came to see what was going on, however Hitsugaya arrived first." His lazy eyes sharpened for a moment at the memory. "I've never felt reishi crackle like that in my life. The air was so cold it hurt to breath as my Nanao and I entered through the main gate. There stood Toshiro, in the middle of what looked like a scene from an eleventh division brawl. Apparently there had been a split in the division and without anyone at the top to stop it things had turned into a power struggle. Anyway there he is, looming over the ringleaders, the fools can't even stand up under his reaitsu and a layer of frost is coating everything and everyone within fifty feet of him. The air burned against our skin with chill and it sparkled with ice crystals around him and those poor fools. His face has this mask of perfect calm but his eyes are burning with irritation and power.

 

"Without a speck of emotion he asks them if they think something like this is appropriate behavior while their Lieutenant is recovering in the fourth. The men on the ground just stare up him like they aren't sure if he's going to eat them or not. He let their own silence hang over them like a blade in lieu of the one that's still sheathed over his shoulder. Then continues and says there's two choices for them right now, either they all grow up and act like shinigami or he'll suggest for Captain Soi-Fon to have the punishment force escort anyone who continues to cause trouble for cross division training with the eleventh." Shinji's lips quirk at the subtle brilliance of that threat, the eleventh division was renowned for it's bloodthirsty brutality and they would have loved fresh meat to beat around.   
  
"As soon as he says that the top seats start muttering apologies and pleas for mercy. So than this kid just drops his reitasu like it was never there and glances over his shoulder at me and asks if I was stopping in for anything in particular." Shunsui shook his head at the memory. The casual confidence and dominance in the boy’s stance was what Shunsui remembered and it had reminded him of the early days of the Gotei when the Captains brutal roots as warlords hadn't been as well hidden behind tradition and regulation. "After that the fifth ran without a hitch, he came by a couple of times a week until Hinamori was out of fourth. Once she was back running things he'd stop in and sign off on whatever needed a Captain's signature or approval just to remind the trouble makers in the squad that there was still a higher power keeping watch." Shinji smirked at that, a Captain's duty was to keep his division in line, most people never realised that it was their subordinates fear that did most of the work for them.

 

"Guess that means I'll have to reclaim the role of boogie man from him eh?" Shunsui laughed at that and tipped his ridiculous straw hat to him. 

 

"You've got enough experience as a Captain I don't think you'll have a problem with that." Mournfully he shook the flask. "Damn, out of sake already." He sighed and pushed himself to his feet. "I'll let you get back to settling in, Ukitake is itching to throw a welcome home party for you and the others. I've talked him into waiting a week." Shinji smiled and rose to his feet as well. 

 

"I'll warn the others." he told him then flashed him a knowing smile. "And I'll have a sake stash of my own next time you come around." he told him and the older captain perked up at that. 

 

"Nanao-chan wouldn't think to check the fifth for me." he murmured tapping his chin then giving a casual half salute as he turned away. "Until next time, Captain Hirako." he murmured and for the first time since he'd come back to the Seireitei Shinji felt the thrill of power of title as the older captain flash-stepped away. As his old friends reiatsu faded off in the direction of the eighth division Shinji stepped out from behind the desk and paused in the middle of the office turning to look around.   
  
"Captain." he murmured to himself as he studied the layout of the office, even with the shifting warmth of evening light the subtle positioning of everything in the office drew the eye to the captain’s desk. The room was designed to intimidate, to highlight the power and control a Captain had over his division. Shinji tapped his thumbs together as he thought about one of the subtleties in the Seireitei that hadn't changed, power made you a Captain, skill kept you there, strength came with time.   
  
Shinji took a deep breath then let it out slowly as he scanned the lingering traces of power Aizen had left through the office, an effect of a century of exposure to the man's reiatsu . It was thickest here, in the heart of his seat of power, but it still lingered more faintly all over the fifth division barracks and grounds. Time would fade that, new powers would come to wash it away until it was only an echo of memory, but this room Shinji could reclaim for himself right now. By nature he was a suspicious and subtle man, however Shunsui's story had a point, power was useless if one didn't have the strength to use it.

 

With a smirk he wrapped his spiritual pressure around himself slowly letting it build. This office was his, he thought, this division was his, the men and woman serving in it, all belonged to him. The last time he'd controlled this office he had made the mistake of thinking that it couldn't be taken from him, that the rules and laws would protect him, it was time he reminded everyone that he wasn't going to go quietly again. By now the golden glow of reatsu that surrounded him was beginning to thrash and heat the air around his skin, the baby fine strands of his blonde hair starting to rise with static. He felt his nails digging into his palms as he focused to imprint his will onto every whirl of that power, then he opened his hands. Mine it nearly howled as it exploded into the room, the force of it's release made the windows rattle in their frames and forced loose papers flying. With an effortless flick of control he kept it to within the confines of the office, not wanting to cover the division with it no matter how tempting the thought was. Below his breastbone he felt Pharaoh stir, the Hollow's instincts roused from dormancy by the act of dominance and pushed his own reiatsu out to supplement Shinji's. The blonde allowed it but only enough to give the power in the room a smokey weight, he was a Visared, and would wear that title proudly, but this office, this division, they belonged to him and Pharaoh was going to have to deal with that distinction.   
  
Satisfied he closed his eyes and snapped his power back down to it's normal level. Through the open window he could hear the sound of whispers and foot-steps were racing down the hallway, he turned back to his desk and settled behind it just as the door was thrown open. 

 

"Captain, are you alright?" his third seat demanded, Zanpakto half drawn in preparation. To slay him or a threat, the blonde man wondered hiding his assessing look behind a lazy smile. 

 

"Never better. I was just making the room more comfortable." he told the third seat watching as the youth frowned in confusion and scanned the room that to his eyes appeared unchanged. 

 

"Sir-" he cut himself off as his subtler senses finally registered the smokey power that lingered in the air, a change from the clinging slickness of the atmosphere before. The third seats dark eyes opened wide for a moment in understanding then a tension Shinji hadn't realized the other was carrying released in the mans shoulders and he sheathed his blade and gave a low bow. "My apologies Captain." This time there was no hesitancy to the title and when he raised his head his lips were quirked in a subtle smile. Shinji hadn't expected that reaction from an act as simple as this had been. "Perhaps, sir, you would like to come out and observe the men on the training quad." The man glanced out the window over Shinji's shoulder for a moment. "I know you've been busy getting settled of course, but I think they would like to show you what they're capable of, Sir."

 

"Why not, I could use some fresh air." he murmured rising to his feet. As he moved to come out from behind the desk he felt a roll of power wash over his back and he whirled around to face the window as he felt Shunsui's reiatsu flare from the eighth division.   
  
He closed his eyes as he focused on the power the high and low notes of it and he had the ridiculous flashback to Disney's Lion King and the scene where the lion roars. However that was what if felt like, as though the Squad Eight Captain was stretching his power and declaring that he was there. Before Shinji could figure out why however Ukitake's cool depth of power rose like an ocean wave from off in the Thirteenth division. His power flavoured with a hint of thunder and lightning a cool contrast to Shunsui's latent danger. As Unohana's soothing strength flared from the direction of the fourth, the hints of mystery and unquestionable control had him unconsciously turning his face toward it as his lips quirked in realization. It was a roll call he realised, he'd almost forgotten the old ritual. It was nothing more than a show of power. Each Captain declaring their presence in the fortress, exerting their dominance over the soldiers that served them.   
  
When he had first become a Captain it had already become a somewhat archaic tradition to acknowledge and welcome new Captains into power. He hadn't expected his little private battle to have roused the old Captains memories, but perhaps Shunsui had anticipated that. He was distracted from his thoughts as he felt a rush of winter chill settle in his bones from somewhere in the direction of the tenth. Impressive he thought recalling Shunsui's story of the little Captain as he struggled to suppress a shiver at that icy touch of power. Rose's and Kensei's flares of power were nearly simultaneous from the third and ninth divisions, the familiarity of their presence, even with the subtle heaviness of their inner hollows soothed him. He'd lived in close quarters with them for so long that the distance between them now had left him on edge the reminder that they were doing fine eased his sense of guilt for not having checked in yet. 

 

From somewhere from the second division flared a power he was less familiar with, it was spiked and edgy, controlled into a shorter burst then any of the others had been. The lingering sting of it intrigued him, female he picked out, perhaps he'd have to find out more. The next unfamiliar presence rumbled over his skin in a nearly tactile sensation, he suspected that might belong to the captain of the seventh, these would be the young Captains now the slight delay and tremble to their flare reminding him of his first roll call, when he hadn't quite understood what he was involved in. Only three left he thought, surprised to find himself leaning on the window sill, fingers digging into the wood intently as he waited, held breath burning in his lungs.   
  
The next Captain to answer made his brows raise as the immensity of his made the air itself seem to tremble and he thought that came from somewhere in the direction of the sixth. Immediately following it as though tossing out a challenge was a rough spill of power raging on the edge of control and twisting through his chest like a sword blade. That had to be the latest Kenpachi, Shinji turned to gaze at the momentarily golden glow in the distance over the eleventh contrasting starkly against the darkening evening sky. Lastly was a distracted flare of twisted power that crept along his skin leaving the hair on his arms standing at attention and the blonde captain thought it crawled from the 12th division laboratories. 

 

As the final wave of power passed, fading off as it stretched out across the Seretei Shinji let out an unsteady breath and grinned. So these were his brothers, the men and women who held ranks as captains. They felt like an impressive group, different from the last, younger yet perhaps more balanced and steady. He shifted his weight to leave the window just as the leading edge of a wave of heat and impossible pressure suddenly slammed into his back. The blonde nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned his head to look towards the towering form of the first division in the heart of the city. He felt as though all the moisture had been scoured away from his skin and absently ran his tongue over his lips to sooth the sting. Head Captain Yamamoto he identified unconsciously, it seemed that the old master of the Seireitei still had it, the rolling wave of roaring power and heat made all the others before it feel like the brushes of butterfly wings. This was the finale, the Captains had all declared their presence and the old man reminded them all why it was him that they answered to.    
  
Shinji was disconcerted to realize how much he had missed the comforting presence of the old man's power as it wove itself through the background of spiritual energy in the Seireitei . Letting out a slow breath he thought that the next he took felt cleansed, the captains powers had settled back into the comfortable background of the city and now he, Kensei, and Rose had marked their place within that mosaic as well. They were home, and now all of the seretiei knew that the captains were in residence. He wondered if the sudden looseness in his shoulders was being felt by anyone else. Already he suspected that the lingering marks of the traitors would have been cleansed from the surface areas of the city by that storm of power and he wondered if the younger generation of soldiers would notice the difference.

 

 Settling his expression back to something more neutral he turned to his third seat and saw the young man's eye were wide with shock and respect. Realizing his Captain's attention was on him he swallowed and shifted into a proper stance of attention rather then the weak kneed brace he had settled into in the face of the unexpected storm of power. "I've, I've heard of a roll call sir, but I've never actually felt one." he stammered as he appeared to consider the blonde man like he'd never seen him before. "I don't know if it's been said but," he offered a shaken smile. "Welcome back to the fifth division, sir." 


End file.
